Page 154 of Family Affair

Approaching her chest of drawers, she reached for the knob to open the top drawer and pull out her Frank manila envelope. Everything was better with Frank. And if meant she was crazy,c’est la vie. She was done fighting it.

The Pollock drawing lay on top, and she picked it up first. As usual, the infinite skill with which it had been executed fascinated her. She wasn’t envious, no, never of Frank, but she wished she could absorb some of his effortless mastery through this one piece.

“What can Cade do now?” she asked Frank’s portrait. It didn’t have an answer.

Nothing made sense. Things were happening too fast and she grappled with interpreting them correctly. Each event meant something for the bigger picture. Each piece of the puzzle had its place, but she had no time to arrange them, no ability to form a pattern. Ward left everything to Cade. Very strange. Why?

Coco felt pressure build behind her eyes, as if she were on the cusp of a major breakthrough.

“A major breakdown,” she muttered to Chap who’d ambled over seeking company.

Reaching for the envelope, she shook out its precious contents and spread them out. Here he was, her Frank. Her drawing of him lay front and center, beaconing her with his shadowy eyes.

“You have the answers, don’t you?” She didn’t know if she liked him at this moment. His name was connected to the unholy mess that Cade’s life had become. “Tell me.”

He couldn't, of course.

Coco flipped the portrait aside, hiding the image, and froze.

Her own face looked at her from the back of Frank’s drawing. She turned it over again, thinking that she completely lost it and was seeing things.

But no. On the front, it was Frank whom she’d drawn. On the back, it was her, with her hair in a high bun pierced by a pencil, just like she’d had it when Cade had rescued her and Chap from the vet clinic. Her tops of her shoulders were visible with the tank top covering them, and wisps of sweaty hair clung to her dewy neck. She looked a little annoyed.

It wasn’t a picture that enhanced looks. Her face was real, unembellished, and so vibrantly alive.

As if in a trance, Coco took note of the artist’s skill. It wasn’t executed in the same manner as the Pollock drawing. This drawing mimicked her own style, the style in which Frank’s face had been produced. If she didn’t know better, she could have sworn that Frank’s portrait and hers were done by the same hand.

“I am crazy,” she said out loud, startling Chap. But she wasn’t crazy. Not crazy at all.

She flipped Frank’s portrait up and looked him in the eye. “Now what?”

She went to the kitchen to heat up some water.

An hour later, Lucy came home from work, and Coco was still sipping tea at the kitchen table.

“How was your day, honeybee? You look so serious.”

“I’m fine, mom. Just a lot to think about.”

“Oh? Penny for your thoughts.”

Coco laughed, and the hysterical edge to her mirth earned her an arrested look from Lucy. “You know, mom, sometimes one thing, one little fact, makes all the difference in the world. It’s like that one puzzle piece that doesn’t belong, and because of it, the entire picture just wouldn't come together. But once you fit it in right, everything else follows.”

Lucy’s forehead wrinkled in worry. “I’m afraid you lost me, dear.”

“I’m sorry I lost you, mom. But I found someone else.”

A knock sounded at the door. Calmly, Coco stood up and went to answer it. She checked the peephole before unlocking the door, opening it wide.

“Hello, Detective. I’ve been expecting you.”